Week One Poetry

Everything I Am and More

I am. . .
A ray of bright yellow sunshine, with a tinge of canary.
A rhombus, complex but structured.
A dancer, graceful and elegant- but prepared to bust a move now and then.
Opera soaks in my skin and streams through my senses, calming my mind
Somehow feeding the tiger within me, waiting to pounce on a new experience.
On the Wings of Love is a stupid song I've never heard.
I am seven Honda Civics, ordinary in function but able to outwork and outlast anyone.
I am the end table I haven't yet bought for my entry way.
I crave cheese-its but don't eat them.
I pluck violin strings just to be unconventional.
I am here, in the Tri Cities, resting under a weeping willow, afraid to fail, ready to run.

Clueless

I don't know why some people don't like musicals
Or how some are unable to dance, or why some don't love animals,
Or how some don't think to shower on a regular basis.

I don't know why it snows on the worst possible days
Or why dogs sometimes chase cars
Or why money runs out right when the bills show up.

I don't know why some people give up
Whether it be on the job or at home or in life
For there is always someone who depends on you, even if you don't know it.

I don't why bad things happen to good people
Why children die, why others get sick,
Or why volcanoes sometimes sputter and the earth sometimes moves.

I don't know how some people don't love their children
Or why some people go hungry
Or why some people don't push themselves to become something extraordinary in this life.

But nothing in this existence will ever be perfect,
And reminding yourself of this fact
Will make the imperfections easier to acknowledge and to let go.